


True Colors

by Ana_Kerie



Category: My Time At Portia (Video Game)
Genre: Children, F/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-03 09:55:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19461574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ana_Kerie/pseuds/Ana_Kerie
Summary: Sanwa reflects on the woman who brought color into his world and turned it upside down. They're about to tackle their biggest project yet.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I know that Arlo is the overwhelmingly popular choice as far as husbands go in MTaP. And Arlo is a great guy. But my current Builder is happily married to Sanwa. The Hulu brothers are some of the nicest NPCs in the game, and Sanwa is my favorite. This is just a something I was inspired to throw together about their story and what Victoria and Sanwa have come to mean to each other. Mild spoilers.

_When you put on the special glasses and saw colors for the first time. That look on your face. It was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. I knew, right then, that I was going to fall in love with you._

Not “I immediately fell in love with you”. Sanwa loves that she didn’t say that. Because he never would have believed it. Would have dismissed it as well-intentioned flattery. Vic didn’t love him then and she wasn’t going to lie and claim she did. She just realized that someday? She would. He can trust the truth in that.

That was the day, he thinks, that he knew he was going to fall in love with her as well. When the colors of the world came alive for him, and she was standing there and so bright and so…real. He later had to learn colors like a little kid, what names went with what shade. So he didn’t know right then that her hair was dark red or that her eyes were blue. Maybe, he would think later, it was like a baby chicken. Maybe because she was the first person he saw in color that he’d imprinted on her. 

She’s beautiful in his eyes, but he understands to the rest of the world she’s simply rather pretty. None of Phyllis’ classic charms or the ethereal, fragile loveliness of Ginger. There’s grease under her fingernails or streaked on her face half the time, and she smells like smoke and metal and sawdust. And twenty minutes later she’s scrubbed clean and wearing her white summer dress and she looks stunning. And wrong, somehow. He prefers her in jeans, soot-streaked, lost in her own world as she cobbles together things he can’t even begin to understand. That’s his Vic. Especially when she pinches her fingers and lets out a stream of swear-words that would make Yeye stuff a bar of soap into her mouth.

She proposed to him at Solstice, in her own unique way. She’d asked for a group photo of Sanwa with his brothers and they’d all been doing goofy poses for the camera. They’d been dating a while then, and he liked how well she fit in with his family. Like a missing piece filled in. 

They’d all been horsing around still after the picture, and Vic had shouted out over the noise. “Hey, Hulus.” She had gestured at Sanwa with a thumb (dark under the nail with gunk of some sort). “I’m thinking of adopting this one. Anyone object?” She’d opened her hand and displayed the ring inside, and before he could even formulate a response Erwa had yelled back “OH HE BETTER SAY YES!” and that was that. He was hers. And she was his. And theirs. 

Still, he hadn’t quite let himself believe it. Wondered if somehow this was some elaborate, cruel joke that someone (for reasons he couldn’t understand) was playing on him. In a town where guys looked like Arlo and like Gust, she wanted to marry him. A dumpy, colorblind barber with nothing to really offer her but discounts on haircuts. It didn’t make sense that she loved him, but he knew that she did, and maybe not everything had to make sense.

She is infuriating at times, his Vic. (Everyone else had to call her Victoria: she told him once that she’d always wanted to be called Vic by someone special, and had been waiting for the right person.) Vic’s sense of self-preservation is lacking even on the best of days and gleefully absent on the worst. He’s lost count of the times when various people have turned up at his door at 3AM to return his snoring wife. Lost count of the various scratches he’s bandaged and swollen knees he’s iced. He chides her about it and she laughs and hugs him and tells him “I’ll be fine. You worry too much.”

He’s heard that his whole life. His brothers always called him “Little Mom” because he worried about all of them constantly. He can’t help it. People are unfairly fragile things, after all. It doesn’t take much to knock them down. And he’s ended up hitching his star to a woman who seems to get knocked down far too often.

Sanwa wishes he could forget the day the AIs attacked, but it’s seared into his brain like a brand or a scar and he’ll never be able to get rid of it. And what he remembers most is his fury that day, more angry than he’d ever been before in his entire life. Part of it was anger that this was his town, his home, that they were trying to destroy. But most of it was the rage born of knowing that they wanted to bring Victoria down, that she and a handful of others were the real targets. 

Of course she was out there in the thick of things, her sword flashing in the sunlight, and the next thing he knew he’d been by her side fighting as well. He was rubbish at it, of course, but she’d had the good sense not to order him to safety. She’d understood that he needed to be right where he was.

It wasn’t just Vic they were trying to take away from him, he’d thought later. It was everything good that he loved about his life right now that they were trying to destroy.

She wasn’t just Vic. 

She was offkey singing in the evening while her machines hummed along. She was the solid warmth against his side in the night and the lips against his forehead in the morning. She was hot air balloon rides. Morning walks in the desert. Impromptu fishing trips. She was shared meals in the Round Table and dart games she could never manage to win against him. She was Sunday soaks in the hot springs, and see-saw rides while other people stared at them and shook their heads in bewilderment. She was doodles in the sand and star-gazing. She was the one wandering by and grabbing hot sausages when the Hulu brothers got together for a cook-out. She was the one who would look both ways quickly before snatching up bar of metal from Higgins’ furnace. (That would have offended his morals more if he didn’t suspect that Higgins was leaving the damn things out there for her to try and swipe, and that it was actually some sort of odd, unspoken game between the two of them.) She was the name “Hulu’s” over their front door because she wanted everyone to know she was one of them now. She was the casual stroll into his barber shop when she knew it was empty and a call out of “Hey you. Brought you lunch. It’ll cost you a kiss.”

She was everything.

_“Haven’t see your wife around the Guild the last few days, Sanwa. Has she finally given up? What a shame.”_

_“Nah, Higgins. She’s just working on a private commission right now, a big one. It’s taking a lot of her energy.”_

_“Big commission, huh? Well, if she’s not up to it tell her to send it my way. What’s so funny?”_

_“Higgins, trust me. This isn’t something you’d be able to handle.”_

_“I beg your pardon? I’m twice her age and three times the builder Victoria is! Whatever she’s working on, I could get it done in half the time. And do it better. What is so funny, Hulu? Who gave her this commission, anyway? Maybe I could talk to them instead, since you aren’t being much help.”_

_“It’s a commission from me, actually. And I’m flattered, Higgins, but you’re really not my type. Plus, unless you’re hiding a big secret, I don’t think you can build what she’s building right now.”_

_Realization dawning. “She’s…”_

_“Yup.”_

_A pause. “Is she alright? Are things going okay? She shouldn’t be overworking herself. No, I’m not just saying that because I want the big jobs for myself. I’ve seen how hard she pushes herself. She might be my competition, but you know I don’t want anything to happen to her.”_

_“She’s fine. A little run down and sick to her stomach, but she says that’s normal. She’s promised not to overwork herself. And thanks. I appreciate it.”_

And she is sick, but she keeps on smiling and she’s excited. Yeye and Sanwa’s brothers are ecstatic and already having long discussions about future business owners, tree-farmers, and fisherman. Yeye has started learning to knit, and the woman has never knitted in her entire life. “I never had time to learn. Too many other things on my plate. Had to be your mother instead of your grandmother, didn’t I? I’ve got time now. I finally get to do it right. You chose well, Sanwa. She’s a wonderful girl.”

“She is. Yeye, she’s everything.” 

And right now, right at this moment, he feels like nothing. Less than nothing. Utterly, completely, and totally useless. Terrified out of his mind and on the verge of breaking down and sobbing until he pukes or passes out or both. 

Sure, Vic knows her way around a sword. She can handle a bandirat or a glorycroc. But this isn’t something she can take down with a weapon. This isn’t something she has a lick of experience with. This isn’t a battle he can join in. Yeah, he can be at her side right now and he is, but there isn’t anything else he can do. 

He’s never seen Vic cry before, but she’s crying now and screaming and has apparently added quite a few new words to her off-color vocabulary. He’s got her hand inside of his, and it looks so tiny, so deceptively fragile. And as much pain as she’s in, she isn’t directing any of her vitriol onto him. He realizes he is doing something: that in this moment, maybe for the first time, she truly needs him. She needs him to just be here, with her, to see this through. Sanwa strengthens his spine. He can do this. 

The kid is a mess. A screaming, slimy, squalling, bloody oozing mess. He hasn’t seen too many babies in his life but he thinks this one is kind of on the short side. A short, pudgy little boy with a full head of his Ma’s dark red hair. Might be just the blood, but no, he knows the little guy will take after Vic at least in that. And she’s not crying any more. She’s laughing and she’s alright and the screaming little man in Dr. Xu’s hands is okay. Not particularly happy at the moment, but he’s okay.

Later, he’s lying next to Vic in the bed with one arm around her and the kid nestled in the crook of the other one. They’ve cleaned him up and diapered him and fed him, and he’s not yelling any longer. He’s actually kind of snuggled up against Sanwa and dozing. He thinks that maybe besides her hair, the boy was going to have his Ma’s blue eyes too. But Vic has seen other babies and says no. That that weird, dark blue color they are now will turn brown like Sanwa’s soon enough. 

“Except for his hair, he’s going to look just like you.” She is leaning heavily against him, exhausted but not yet willing to give into sleep.

“Poor kid.” Sanwa shakes his head sadly, and she pokes him. 

“Don’t insult my husband. He’s pretty damn cute.”

Something else is bothering him. “Vic…what if he’s like me in other ways? What if he’s colorblind? What if we can’t find any more of those special lenses?”

Vic yawns. “I already found some. I’ve been keeping them safe in case yours broke or in case we needed them. He won’t have to grow up without colors like you did if he can’t see them. I promise. He’ll have what he needs.”

“Suppose he needs a name, too.” Sanwa peers down at the sleeping baby. 

Vic twists her head and grins at him. “Well, there’s one I was thinking of. Kind of a play on words. Since you love your vegetables so much. And it’s pretty close to one of his uncles. We can call him Quinwa. Like quinoa the food. Get it?”

“No. No we absolutely cannot name this poor baby Quinwa. What’ll we call the next one, Layered Carrot?”

Vic yawns again. “What about Yanse?”

Sanwa pauses “Color.”

“Yeah. It means ‘color’. But makes a good name. Yanse Hulu. Hey, mind if I crash?”

He kisses the top of her head. “Sleep, Vic. Yanse and I will be right here just getting to know each other. You did good, Builder. Assembled him perfectly. Your best work yet.”

She lets out another sleepy giggle. “See Higgins top this one.” She’s gone a minute later, and he’s exhausted as well, but Sanwa doesn’t sleep. He watches his tiny little son, and wonders if he’ll see colors, and if he’ll be a Builder like his Ma and Grandpa, or want to learn to cut hair, or if he’ll go his own way. It doesn’t matter. He’ll be himself. That’s enough for Sanwa.

////////////////////////////////////////////////

The sausages are popping on the grill, next to Qiwa’s salmon, and some vegetables (although the peppers have been kept far away from Sanwa’s portion of the food.) 

The early summer sun is blazing, and music is blaring out of the old record machine Vic fixed up (the song is catchy but Sanwa has no idea what language it’s supposed to be in.) 

Yeye, who kept a firm hand on their diets as little kids, has been slipping sweets to Yanse all afternoon. As a result, Sanwa’s boy is running around and laughing like a lunatic as his uncles take turns swinging him around in the air and keeping him from diving into either the grill or the water. While the kid might be a red-headed pint-sized version of himself, Sanwa sighs, he definitely has his Ma’s utter disregard for personal safety. Another few years and they’ll be hauling him out of ruins. 

As soon as Yanse could talk well enough to answer questions, it was obvious pretty quickly that the boy took after his Pa in another way: he is completely colorblind. And damn if that doesn’t break Sanwa’s heart right in two _. I did this to him. It’s my fault. He’ll hate me for it._

Except he doesn’t seem to hate his Pa one bit. Fact is the kid is pretty darn proud of his little glasses and the fact that he and his father match. When they walk through town together, the boy actually seems to strut. And miraculously, the furnaces outside of Higgins workshop have started producing strawberries as well as metal bars. Just lying there for the taking. Funny coincidence that Yanse loves strawberries.

Vic is lying back in the lounge chair Sanwa had carried along for her, a cold drink in one hand, chatting with Yeye while keeping one eye on her wayward offspring. There isn’t much running after him she can do herself right now, being that Yanse’s little brother or sister is supposed to show up before the end of the week.

Although he has assured Vic he’ll be happy either way, and he will, Sanwa finds himself hoping that the new one is a girl. He thinks about afternoon tea-parties and frilly dresses, but he isn’t so sure that’s realistic with Vic as a mother. Might be nice, though, to have a kid that stays put (Erwa has just pulled Yanse back from the water’s edge yet again). “Catch fish like Unca Keewa!” Yanse protests, indignant. Qiwa rubs at his eyes and blames the smoke from the grill. 

How in the world are they going to keep up with two of them?

And there’ll be third little Hulu before too long. Dawa and Dana are contributing their own addition in a few more months. (They’re disgustingly adoring right now, Vic grumbles. Downright nauseating to watch. But she doesn’t mean it, of course. She’s looking forward to being an aunt.)

Sanwa sits down next to Victoria and she moves his hand to her belly, where Hulu 2 is kicking up fuss. He can feel the outline of a tiny foot against his palm, and he never stops marveling at the perfection of it all. He wishes today could last forever. 

The sunlight catches the highlights in Vic’s hair, the lighter red strands woven among the darker ones, and of all the colors he can see now, that is definitely the best.

“You’re my favorite color.” He blurts out, and Yeye gives him a strange look over Vic’s distended abdomen. “Boy, have you been out in the heat too long?”

“Nope.” Vic wraps her hand around Sanwa’s and he squeezes it with his other one. “I know exactly what I said. She’s my favorite color.” And maybe it didn’t make much sense to Yeye but Vic understood. 

Anyone can say “I love you” and anyone can mean it. But this is the highest compliment Sanwa knows how to pay anyone, and she gets it. She knows exactly what he means. 

“You’re mine too, big guy.” She whispers. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victoria doesn't always make the best decisions. Sanwa is rather horrified by one in particular. Later, Victoria tries to sort out her very mixed feelings about her Pa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to just be a one-and-done but I love these two so much that I was inspired to explore their story a little more. If anyone is interested, here is a screenshot of Victoria, Sanwa, and baby Yanse. 
> 
> https://i.imgur.com/enhIblt.jpg
> 
> Completely unnecessary information: I have a dear friend from Peru. Her name is Andrea (pronounced On-Dray-A) and she's always giving me llama presents. So I had to name my llama after her.

_“What were you thinking, Victoria?”_

_“I’m sorry, Aunt Kendra…”_

_“Sorry doesn’t cut it! You put yourself and three other children in danger! Their parents are livid and I don’t blame them! You all could have been killed! Those ruins are off limits for a reason!”_

_“I know. I just wanted to see what it looked like inside. Look, I found this neat bracelet.”_

_“Victoria…you’re all I have left of your Ma. I already lost my baby sister. I don’t want to lose you too, especially not because of some Old World junk. Promise me you’ll be more careful. Promise me!”_

_“I promise.”_

She hates fighting with him. Really, Victoria hates fighting with anyone, but she truly hates fighting with Sanwa. 

She’s lucky, she thinks as she leans back in the double lounger, staring up at the incoming rain clouds. Lucky that her husband is by nature a gentle and patient man. Mother Earth knows she’s not the easiest person in the world to live with. And he just takes it all in stride most of the time.

Sure, he may grumble when he catches her tinkering around in the factory in the middle of the night, or scold her when she’s so caught up in a project that she forgets to eat. He never says a word of complaint about their house overflowing with various relics and artifacts she’s dug up over the years. He just kind of sighs when she lugs home another one and helps her clear a space for it. He loves her, warts and all, and she’s grateful for it. 

Even the most patient person in the world has their limits, however. At the moment, he’s absolutely furious with her and she’s torn between horrendous guilt and the righteous angry voice in her head telling that she has no reason to feel guilty. 

How can she be angry when the very quality that has him so upset is one of the things she loves most about him and makes her feel so safe? 

_He’ll be there for them. If something ever happens to me, he isn’t going to dump them somewhere and take off. He isn’t that kind of man. He’ll always put them first. Even ahead of me. That’s the way it should be. That’s the way I want it to be. Isn’t it? Yes, it is. If I screw up, he’ll cover my back._

_I screwed up._

She closes her eyes, wondering what her next step should be, and then she hears his familiar, heavy footsteps on the balcony, and feels the weight of the lounger dip next to her. For a long time, neither of them say a word.

“Do…you…do you really think I’d do anything to put our boys in danger?” She finally asks, hating the way her voice cracks. 

“Not intentionally, no.” He whispers back, as honest and straightforward as always. 

“I never took my eyes off of him. Not for a minute. He loved it. He was so proud of the things he found.”

“I know. Vic, I know he loved it. But he’s five years old. He’s almost a baby still. He’s not big enough to go digging around in ruins. Yes, I know there aren’t any monsters in there. But love, how many times have you come back scraped up and bruised and cut? You’ve had concussion twice from things falling on your head. And what if he did wander off? Those tunnels go on forever. You know how he just takes off without thinking. Just like his Ma.” There is no bitterness in his words. He takes a breath. “What hurt the most though…you didn’t even discuss it with me first. You just decided spur of the moment to take him excavating with you. You can’t leave me out of stuff where the boys are concerned, Vic. We’re in this together.”

And now she feels really guilty because of all the things she hates doing, hurting him ranks even above giving Higgins credit for a job well done. He’s right, of course. She should have talked to him first. Maybe she didn’t because she knew he would have objected. What was that saying “It was easier to ask for forgiveness than permission”? Of course she doesn’t need his permission. But she should have at least asked for his opinion. 

“I was so excited to include him, Sanwa.” She turns to look at him for the first time. “Even before he was born, I’ve been dreaming of the day I could show him my world.”

He shakes his head and puts his arm around her, and she sags against him as he kisses her forehead. “Vic…he’s going to live in your world all the time one day soon. He’s your boy to the center of his bones. And when that day comes I’m going to worry sick about him just like I do his Ma. Let me just have a few more years where I know he’s safe. Maybe when he’s twelve…”

“Ten.” She counters, and he kisses her again. “Eleven. We’ll split the difference.” 

They sit in silence for a while again, this time a comfortable one. She loves the warmth of him, loves how when he embraces her she seems to sink into him. She wonders if he’ll ever know just how much she adores him. The clean smell of the chemicals he uses in the barber shop, the feel of his beard against her head. The feeling of really belonging somewhere. Something she’d lost when she’d been not much older than Yanse was now. 

“I don’t think Kai will be joining us.” She finally adds. “I could be wrong on that, but…”

Sanwa bursts out laughing and it echoes in the night. From below she can hear Artax whicker in response. “I think he’ll be right here next to me worrying about you both.”

_It’s another boy, and he’s too happy to care about tea parties or pretty dresses. The boy has the same blue-that-will-be-brown eyes as his older brother once did, but what little hair he has is already dark brown. He’s longer than Yanse was at birth, and far lighter. Sanwa suspects the kid will be slender and tall like his Ma when he grows up. Won’t Yanse be thrilled when his little brother towers over him?_

_“I named the last one. Your turn.”_

_“Kai. His name is Kai.”_

_“Kai. I like it. What does it mean?”_

_He chuckles. “It means ‘Victorious’”_

Kai is different than his brother. Of course he’s only two and that could change, but Victoria senses a different path for her youngest. Yanse dances about like dandelion fluff in the wind. He’s a gregarious child: everyone’s friend. Even Higgins likes him, although the man pretends not to. He’s already started helping Victoria out with small projects and he has a natural aptitude for it. Nothing has ever given her greater pride than working side by side with her little boy. Which, she thinks now ruefully, is the reason she took a five-year-old down into abandoned ruins. 

Kai is quiet. He didn’t start talking until well after his first birthday, and he never cried much as a baby. He’s curious but cautious. Not…afraid…exactly. But careful. Any new experience or new person has to be studied and analyzed before he makes a decision about it. Sanwa says that Kai reminds him a little of Liuwa when he was a boy. Yanse will demand hugs from strangers: Kai will tolerate affection only from those especially close to him. Even then it is on his own terms and for whatever length of time he deems appropriate. 

Victoria doesn’t think he’ll be jumping down holes with her and his big brother. She isn’t entirely sure what Kai will end up doing. Maybe, she thinks, Merlin will want another assistant. The one thing that she is sure about is that her little one is wickedly intelligent. 

They both are. And of course they would be: they take after their Pa.

“It’s going to rain any minute. We should go back inside.” Sanwa cracks his neck. “I hate fighting with you. Wanna go officially make up?”

She stands up and stretches as the first heavy raindrops smack down on top of her head. “I guess if we’re not fighting now I don’t have an excuse to slip chili peppers into your salad.”

He grabs her from behind and wraps his arms around her waist. “Come here, you wretched woman.” Sanwa falls back down into the lounger with his wife on his lap and she twists around to face him, laughing. “Promise you’re not still mad at me?”

“Eh, I can never stay mad at you.”

He kisses her and oh how that man can kiss! She knows that there are people in town, like Sonia, who still don’t ‘get’ their relationship. She hopes that someday, Sonia finds someone who can dissolve her with a kiss and set her on fire with a brush of their fingers. She’d had other lovers before Sanwa: not many, but a few. He had a few of his own. No one has ever made her feel like this.

“No fair! I wanna play too!” 

“Yanse, what are you doing out of bed?” Sanwa reluctantly pulls away from Victoria and looks over to see their son standing there barefoot, in his yellow duckling pajamas, seeming rather put-out that his parents had left him out of the fun. 

“You’re not in bed.” Yanse points out. 

“Was about to head in that general direction before you interrupted.” Sanwa mutters under his breath.

Victoria gives an exasperated sigh and Yanse runs over and climbs up to snuggle between them in the lounger. “We are all going to be soaked in about two minutes.” She ruffles his hair. “Is your brother still asleep at least?”

“Kai didn’t want to come.” Yanse nuzzles his Pa. “He just yelled ‘Sleepy!’ at me and threw his teddy bear when I woke him up.”

There is a crack and the heavens let loose. They rush back toward the door, Yanse shielded from the worst of the deluge by their bodies. The boy has his head back and his mouth open to catch the raindrops, completely unbothered. 

Ten minutes later they’ve managed to towel the kid off and put him back to bed. Kai opens one eye a crack to give them a baleful glare before turning away to go back to sleep, and Victoria smothers a giggle at how offended and indignant a toddler can look. 

She leans over and tucks his blankets up around his shoulders and kisses his cheek, whether he likes it or not. “Sorry we woke you, baby.” He doesn’t respond, but she sees his lips twitch up briefly into a smile. 

The children where they’re supposed to be, she heads to her own bed, her husband a step behind. 

“I wonder…” 

“Wonder what?”

“If Yanse is old enough to control the Robopig yet.”

At that she takes off running, hearing him right behind. He tackles her into the bed, and they wrestle for a moment, laughing, before he pins her down on her back. Pinky, who has been sleeping on Victoria’s pillow, yowls at them and takes off. She’ll probably wind up bunking with Kai. He, at least, respects the value of uninterrupted sleep.

The weather continues throwing a tantrum outside of their window, but their own storm has fizzled out and Victoria is relieved. Then Sanwa’s kissing her again and she forgets everything else. 

///////////////////////////////////

Up until now, all Maurice has been to his grandsons is a picture in a photo album and presents arriving in the mail now and then. Kai is still too young to really understand the concept of a grandparent. Yanse understands that his mother has a father, but still has some trouble wrapping his mind around the fact that his parents were once children with parents of their own.

When the letter arrives saying Maurice will be in town to visit in the next few days, Victoria isn’t sure what to think or feel. 

She loves her father. Before her mother died, she worshipped the ground he walked upon. She remembers with shame after her mother passed being secretly glad that if she had to lose a parent, it was Ma instead of Pa. Ma had been vegetables at dinner and bedtimes and discipline. Pa had just been fun. She thinks sometimes she would give almost anything to throw her arms around her Ma and beg for her forgiveness, for the shortsightedness of a little girl caught up in hero worship. She’s also had to tamp down her own desires to be the “fun parent” with her boys. They need a mother, not a cool best friend.

That’s harder than she imagined.

Yes, she still loves Maurice. It’s a different kind of love now, though. He doesn’t feel like her father any longer: he’s a person she cares about. Someone she shares blood ties with. She’ll be cordial to him. But the bond they once shared is broken beyond repair. When she sees Sanwa playing with their children, comforting them when they’re sick or afraid, she knows that a part of her will never, ever forgive her Pa for taking that way from her. For shattering the belief she’d once had that he could do no wrong.

“I know what’s going to happen.” She says now, rather muffled because she has nails sticking out of her mouth as she hammers together a desk. “They’re going to love him. Everyone always loves him. They’re going to be absolutely mad about him. He’s going to give them a lot of pretty presents and win their hearts, and then in a few days they’ll wake up and he’ll be gone and they won’t see him again for another five years.”

Sanwa sits down in the grass next to her. Andrea, the cotton llama, wanders over and sniffs at his hair, and he reaches up to scratch the animal. For whatever reason, Andrea is enamored with him. Whenever he and Vic go riding together, she’s his mount. He could have a horse of his own, if he’d wanted one. “I couldn’t, though.” He says often. “It would break her little llama heart if she thought I was replacing her.” Andrea kneels down next to Sanwa so he can scratch her neck at a better angle. 

“I don’t have any answers for you, Vic.” He finally replies. “Yeah, it’s probably going to be just like you say. But if you don’t let him see the kids, they’re going to demand to know why one day. If they’re going to be upset with someone, let them be upset with him. Not you.”

“It’s not like they need him.” Victoria hammers in another nail, just missing her finger, and Sanwa winces. Her hair is vivid fire against the black of her shirt. “They have each other. They have us. They have Yeye. They have your brothers. They have their Aunt Dana. They have their cousin Lin. They have the whole freaking town. They even have Higgins, although Mother Earth only knows how that happened. They’ll have an Aunt Mei too once she and Erwa stop being idiots about the whole thing. What’s one more person?”

“Maybe that’s what you have to keep telling yourself.” Sanwa suggests, as the llama starts nibbling at his shirt and he tries to push her toward the grass instead. 

“What do you mean?”

“They do have a lot of family. All these people that love them and are going to be there for them. If Maurice was all they had, maybe it would be different. “ _Like he was all you had._ He doesn’t say it, but she hears it anyway. “Yeah, they’ll be hurt. They’ll be disappointed. But you’re right: they don’t need him. Not like you needed him, Vic. It won’t be the same. He can’t hurt them like he hurt you.”

“Why can’t I make up my mind how I feel about him?” She throws down the hammer. A second later Scraps runs over, picks it up, and takes off with it toward the other end of the property. Andrea gets to her feet and gives chase. She doesn’t care about the hammer: she just enjoys an excuse to run after Scraps. 

“I love him and I hate him and I’m looking forward to seeing him again and I never want to see him again.” She stops to take a breath. “How can I feel everything all at once like this?”

She tries to get up so he won’t see that she’s starting to cry but he pulls her back into his arms and strokes her hair as she sobs into his shoulder. He still has no real answers to give her. He simply rocks her like he would one of the boys until she finally lifts her face and wipes at her eyes. 

“You know what you need?” He asks, using one thumb to wipe away a stray tear. “A picnic by the waterfall. You, me, and the sprogs. We’ll pack some food and catch some fish to grill. Maybe bring some fireworks along. You always like blowing things to pieces. At least this way you can do it on purpose.”

She smacks him very lightly, and he catches her fingers and kisses them. 

“A picnic sounds like exactly what I need. How do you always know exactly what I need, anyway?”

Sanwa shrugs. “Suppose I’m just that good.”

Andrea trots back over and head-butts Sanwa. “See, she agrees with me.”

“For the millionth time, you shameless hussy, he’s taken.” 

“


End file.
